


Vindicated

by inbarati



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-14
Updated: 2010-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbarati/pseuds/inbarati





	Vindicated

**One Thousand Years Ago**

//And the vampire(s) with a soul shall do battle with a great evil, and thus shall one of them earn the breath of life, the Shanshu. And they shall battle each other, but from this a boon shall be born. If the fire of their hatred shall ignite their hearts in passion, then the two shall be as one, and the beating of two hearts, once dead, once separate, shall be heard throughout the dimensions, and they shall have balance, and peace.//  
~The Book of Unseen Voices, Tzerlok dimension

**One Year Ago**

"Angel, I've looked at this time and time again. Much of this Shanshu prophecy cannot be translated. And the skin this is written on is smudged. And that symbol, there? I have no translation for it. Nor do any of the books I have on the Tzerlok language. And there's a part missing, there. I simply cannot give you any more information."

"Keep working on it, Wesley. I need to know."

**One Month Ago**

"Fuck me! Blue! We gotta get Angel to a hospital, now! The dragon punched a hole in him!"

"A hospital? Vampires do not use hospitals."

"And Angel's the first vampire with a heartbeat. Take his left side. Let's go."

**One Week Ago**

"Spike, just go. Be a vampire. I'm human now. I have all kinds of human needs. I can't fight anything anymore. I'm done. Over."

"Charlie-boy was just a garden variety human too, you know. He still fought the good fight. Until it killed him as you well know, Angel. And I'm bloody well not going to sodding abandon you now because you're too human! I'm not going to do to you what you did to me."

"Spike…"

**Five Nights Ago**

"No, Spike. I'm not going to invite you in."

"Why the bloody hell not?!"

"You need to move on, make a life without me. I need to live a human life."

"Angel, let's just make this clear. I'm not going to stop being a part of your life now that you're human. Human or not, you're still my bloody Sire. So I'm leaving now, but I will be back. Give some thought to letting me in. Illyria went to London to work for the Council. We're the only ones left, yeah? That has to mean something."

Angel closed the door and locked it with a crisp clicking sound. He refused to cry until he heard the sound of a well-worn pair of Doc Marten's going down the stairs. He let go, sobbing until he couldn't breathe, and fell to the floor. His new apartment was completely empty except for a few piles of books, a lamp, and a blanket on the floor. He had to get out.

The bar was dark, as most of the lights were broken. There were a few guys in the back playing pool, and two wizened old men sharing a bottle of whiskey down at the end of the bar. Angel ordered his own bottle, poured three fingers into the tumbler provided by the bartender, and downed the whole thing in one gulp. Spike's voice in his head said, Less than a month as a human and you're already back to the sodding bottle. That's better than dying fighting? Angel ignored his inner Spike and poured another glass.

Two hours and a second bottle later, and Angel was no longer bothering with the glass. He weaved his way out of the bar, stopping occasionally to lean against a wall and take another swig out of the bottle. He could still drink like a vampire. A man in a button down shirt and a baseball cap was walking up the sidewalk toward him.

"That's a nice suit," he said. "Betcha it was expensive."

"Ah honerstly wouldna know, " Angel slurred. "Job ped for everrthin."

The man pulled a knife, flicking it open, and advanced on Angel, who was backpedaling into an alley. "Betcha that fancy schmancy job means you got some money."

The bottle made a shattering noise as it fell to the ground. Angel felt in his pockets for his wallet, which wasn't there. He must have left it in the bar. Smooth move, Peaches. Angel found himself wishing for the real Spike, as the man with the knife had him against a wall with the knife at his throat, and was going through his pockets.

_You were a Master vampire for over a hundred years. You know how to fight. Or has a few weeks as a human addled your brain?_ Angel was suddenly much less drunk than he had been. He brought his knee up in a short, sharp jerk. He felt an icy burning in his neck as the blade cut him, but the man fell to the ground, retching.

Angel ran.

**Two Nights Ago**

"Angel, I know you're in there! You can bloody well open the sodding door now, or I'll continue yelling until your neighbors come down to lynch you! Angel! Open the bloo-"

"What do you want Spike?"

"-dy door. I told you I was coming back, Peach- What in fucking hell happened to your neck?!"

Belatedly, Angel put his hand over the cut. "Nothing," he mumbled, avoiding Spike's eyes. _You're a lousy liar, Angel. Stop being a prat and let me in._

"You're a lousy liar, Angel. Stop being a prat and let me in."

Angel blinked, confused by the synchronicity between his inner Spike and the one standing in front of him. He wanted to let Spike in. He would feel safer with Spike around, not so alone. We ruled our world together, once. We could be together again. I'll take you back. All you have to do is let me in. Angel stiffened. No. Humans were humans, and vampires were vampires. They were not meant to be together. His 'relationship' with the Slayer had proved that.

"No, Spike. How many times am I going to have to say no before it gets through that thick skull of yours?! I don't want you in my life. I don't need you in my life! Go home! Live like a vampire. Stop bothering me!"

"Bothering you, am I? I'm bloody well trying to save you from yourself! You smell like a brewery, you're hurting yourself, you brood even more than you did when you were a vampire, if that's possible! Having me in your life is somehow going to make that worse?!"

A window slammed open above them. A woman shrieked, "Shut the fuck up before I call the cops!" before the window slammed shut again.

Angel consciously lowered his voice. "I didn't do this to myself," he enunciated through clenched teeth, "I was mugged. Not that it's any of your business."

Spike pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Angel's bare feet for a moment. "Look, have you eaten? We could go someplace… and you wouldn't, you know…have to invite me in," Spike stammered.

Angel knew he should say no. He knew that this was just the first step, that Spike would try and wear down his resistance. But he hadn't eaten in two days. And he hadn't spoken to anyone since he had been mugged. Food with Spike didn't sound so bad. "I'm starving, actually." Angel tried to ignore the smile that lit up Spike's whole face. "Give me a minute, okay?" he said, closing the door on that smile.

When he came out, nearly half an hour later, he had changed into fresh clothes, and shaved. He felt almost…human. _You're a laugh and a half, Peaches!_ Spike grinned at him, but Angel ducked his head so he wouldn't have to see. He was almost affronted by Spike's happiness. What did he have to be happy about? Angel scowled at his shoes as they walked toward the Indian restaurant on the corner.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Angel?" Spike watched the flickering emotions on Angel's face.

"It's nothing, really. Just… being human is harder the second time around," Angel admitted.

"Worth it though, yeah? Redemption and all that." Spike looked almost wistful.

"I shouldn't have it though. I signed away my right to it." Angel stared at the ground.

"Well, I'm not the expert in prophecy that Percy was, but something tells me that it doesn't work that way."

"What do you mean?" Angel turned to look at Spike. Spike was frowning a little. It was almost cute the way his brow wrinkled. You think I'm cute! You think I'm cute! Inner Spike singsonged in his head. Angel looked back at the ground.

"Well that destiny was written a long time ago. If that destiny was meant for you, I doubt the Wankers That Be would let you just sign it away, yeah?"

"Spike, I think there may be something wrong with me."

"What? Why? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"No, no nothing like that. But there must be something wrong with me. You just made sense. And we're having a mature, adult conversation. When did that ever happen?"

Spike laughed. It was a nice laugh. And for a while, Angel forgot to feel lonely.

Last Night

He shouldn't have gone to dinner with Spike. If he hadn't gone to dinner with Spike, Spike wouldn't have had three hours in which to convince him that patrolling with him was a good idea. Angel would not be walking down this cramped alley in the rain, probably catching his death, serving as 'bait.' He had a sudden pang of sympathy for Xander Harris.

There were three fledges following him into the alley. Angel leaned up against the wall, as if he were drunk. The fledges closed in. Angel's heart began to beat at what felt like an unreasonably fast speed. He spun around and staked a fledge in the chest, only the stake didn't go all the way in. It took a lot more effort than he remembered. He grabbed the stake and rammed it and the vampire behind it into the wall. _One down! Good for you, Peaches!_ Angel turned around to see Spike ripping the head off of one vamp while standing in a pile of dust that used to be the other.

Spike spun around, searching the alley for another fight. There was only Angel. Spike closed the distance between them. "You okay?" he asked, reaching out as if to touch Angel's face, but closing his hand and shoving it in his pocket at the last minute.

Angel stomped on the disappointment welling up in his chest. "Yeah, I even managed to kill one." Spike was staring at his lips. He had to do something before the temptation to kiss the habitual smirk off his face made him do something he'd regret. "I'd better get out of this rain, though. Don't want to get sick."

"Yeah," said Spike, raising his eyes to meet Angel's. "I'll walk you."

It was only four blocks back to the apartment, and they didn't say much as they were walking. The rain was starting to let up. Angel tried not to look to hard at the curls that Spike's wet hair was falling into, or the way he kept biting his lip and frowning.

They stood awkwardly at the door, both of them studying their shoes and the surrounding floor intensely. Finally, Spike broke the silence. "Look," he said, "we should meet up tomorrow and do this again. Meet me tomorrow at that bar, the Esplanade, okay?"

Angel looked confused. "You're not going to try to get me to let you in?"

Spike shrugged and looked away. "We were getting along. I didn't want to end the night fighting."

Angel blinked. Spike was treating him with delicacy, as if he were something fragile. Part of him resented it, but more of him was just amazed. He didn't treat anyone but Drusilla that way. "Well, um, that's very…errr. Mature of you," Angel stammered.

But Spike had already turned and was walking away.

 

**This Morning**

Angel was dreaming. He was at the house in London he and Dru and Darla had shared. But he wasn't himself. He was Spike, who was still William at the time. A shock of blonde hair fell into his eyes. He looked down at his ink-stained fingers and bloodstained clothes. He must have just been turned.

He heard a gruff voice coming from the darkness on the other side of the room. "You're awake. Finally." The sound of that voice caused fear to roil up through his belly and push his unbeating heart up into his throat. He shivered as the figure stepped into the light. It was Angelus, nude and rampant, waiting for him to awaken.

Angel knew what was coming next, and tried desperately to awaken himself, unsuccessfully. William apparently knew what was coming too, falling backwards off the bed to scramble into a corner. Not that it would do him any good. Angelus advanced, grabbing William's throat and dragging him to a standing position.

William was unable to scream, unable to get away. So he closed his eyes. He imagined Angelus' hand moving on his throat in a caress that moved down over his chest, following the trail of sparse hair revealed by his open shirt, to cup his cock through his breeches. When they were ripped away, he imagined eagerness rather than cruelty. He went to his knees voluntarily, licking and nuzzling Angelus, before swallowing as much as he could. He struggled to stay in his fantasy, trying to remember that he didn't have to breathe as Angelus' thickness nearly choked him.

Angel awoke with a strangled gasp. He choked and panted for several minutes, trying to shake off the dream. How could Spike want anything to do with him, after what had happened between them?

 

**Tonight**

It's well past sunset, and Angel isn't anywhere near Esplanade. He's still on his first bottle, however, which means he's drinking somewhat more moderately than the last time he was out on his own. This time he's looking for a fight. He picks one with a skinny blonde guy at the bar.

"Hey, you look available. Can I buy you a drink, sweetie?"

"Are you some kind of faggot?"

"The question is, am I your kind of faggot, honey?"

Angel hits the floor on the first punch, and doesn't bother getting up until the man has broken several of his ribs, and his nose, and left. At least he didn't lose his wallet, this time.

He limped home. He was going to have to buy some new clothes at the rate he was bleeding all over the ones he had. He needed to get a job, too. A human job. He was living off of money left over from the Wolfram and Hart fiasco, but it was only a matter of time until the Rome office tracked that down and took it back. He contemplated the stairs to his apartment and sighed. Spike was sitting on the porch, leaning against his door. He was up as soon as he saw Angel.

"A fine mess you are! What happened?"

"Nothin. G'home."

"Not a chance in hell! You're a bloody mess! C'mon then, lets get you cleaned up."

"I dinna need yer fecking help! Go home, Spike!"

"Look mate, I have no idea what crawled up your ass to die tonight, but there is no way I'm going to let your drunk ass go in there alone. You'll choke on your vomit or some such stupid, drunk human thing!"

Angel took a swing, but overextended himself and ended up falling into Spike's arms. Time hung still for a moment, as their eyes met. Spike pulled Angel closer, licking his bloody lips, asking without words. Thunder rumbled, and the sky opened up again. Angel sighed as he opened his mouth to Spike's kiss, and for a moment they shared a breath.

Thump thump. Spike's heart thrummed in his chest, and he gasped for breath. Angel caught the blonde vampire's body and they slumped to the ground together.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Spike gasped, still unused to having to breathe.

"Your heart is beating!" Angel was equally as breathless.

Spike laughed, and Angel kissed him. Being human was okay if he could have Spike. Human Spike.

**Twenty Years From Now**

The newest Slayers all piled into their beds at top speed. Their favorite Watcher had promised them a story, and they were excited. Shushing each other, they waited as the one-eyed man made himself comfortable.

"Once upon a time," he began, "there were two vampires. Somehow they had both acquired souls."

"How did that happen?" Jasmine asked.

"One was cursed with one, the other fought for his to win the love of a slayer. But that's not the important part. The important part is that by fighting evil, they both earned their right to be redeemed, to be human again."

"Will we ever meet them?" asked Logan.

"Wherever you are stationed in the world, there is always a chance you will meet them. They travel all over the world, and they still fight wherever there is evil. Sometimes they even come here to help us with research, and training the older slayers."

"Wow…" breathed the girls, excited at the thought of training with the former vampires.

"Now it's time for bed! Training early tomorrow, girls." Xander left to the sound of a collective groan. He got to the window just in time to see the two billowing black leather coats heading down the street.

"Harris makes us sound like a couple of bloody poofters."

"You know, it doesn't get much gayer than 'Oh god, Angel, faster!'"

"Oi! You made plenty of noise yourself!"

"Prove it."

"Fine. I'm buying one of those mini-recorders, and I'll get that, and you snoring."

"I don't snore!"

"You bloody well do!"

Xander watched as they disappeared into the darkness, and went to bed with a smile on his face.


End file.
